Getting a pet was never an idea I fancied, so when my son asked me for a fish naturally I was hesitant because a) fish smell, b) they serve no entertainment purposes and c) I’m the one cleaning the tank. Don’t get me wrong a fish is a much better candidate than a fucking gerbil or rodent hamster but a fish was just the last thing I wanted in my house. But what the kids want; the kids get. The following day me, money Matt and the kids go to the classiest and most prestigious place around, Walmart. We purchase 4 .35¢ goldfish. I ask my son, ‘what are your fishes names?’ ‘1 and 2’, I ask my daughter ‘what are your fishes names?’ ‘2 and belle.’ Okay then.. Next day, kids are still interested in the fish except now their names have changed to ‘Jon,chips, Goldie and Geno’ and they have now all been legally taken away from daughter and my son has assumed and taken responsibility for all 4 fish. About 24 times a day my son and daughter would beg to feed the fish (probably the first sign those little sea creatures wouldn’t last very long) Not only were they given fish food but also, whipped cream, soy milk and goldfish crackers. I had to try and explain to my children that their pet goldfish are not cannibals. Next day.. One fish down and soon enough they start dropping like flies. Finally as the last one takes its last fill breath, Geno has gone to the after life. The next morning I caught my son tapping on the tank telling Geno to wake up it was time to eat breakfast. Apart of my heart died. Later that night my son came up to me and told me that Geno had left town and went for a walk and that he’ll be okay. Maybe my 3 year old son comprehends death better than I do?